Swan Lake
by whatsamatta
Summary: It wasn't possible, simply was not possible. They didn't exist, they were fairy tales. Yet here she was. *AU Fantaromangedy if you catch my drift.*
1. Excerpt From a Swan

_**Disclaimer: Surprise! Here's another odd idea from the one and only whatsamatta. This work is largely inspired by the fabulous ballet **_Swan Lake _**– which also gives it it's name – brought to us by that most genius of composers Pyotr Tchaikovsky. Hope you enjoy, and Hey! Arnold does not belong to me.**_

HA

Once upon a time, there were swans.

They were normal, in every possible way; simply the average swan. But legends say that these swans somehow began to feel human emotion – joy, sorrow, anger, hopelessness, and love. From those emotions, the swans manifested the power to transform into the creatures they seemed to mimic. At first it was only for one night, the night of the full moon. Yet over the course of several years, the changing became more frequent until they were swans by day and humans by night, every night, no matter if they wished it or not.

Whether by magic or something else, no one seems to know.

These swans had become so revered, so beloved by the people, that the wealth and royal of the City would bid to have their children marry the creatures. They viewed these beings as Deities, and a union with a Swan was a union with a God. As such, the children of this most glorious union were certain to become sterling members of society: a hero, perhaps, or a magnificent poet. A composer of unparalleled talent, or even leader of the majestic City.

The world, though, has a nasty habit of changing.

It was back when the world was green, full of life and love that the swans were adored. But with the wane of the Dark Ages, and the long wait for the Age of Enlightenment, the land had faded to brown. The time of the poet and the philosopher and the hero and the lover had come, and it had gone, and it seemed with each passing year it would not come again. This was the Age of Greed, the Age of Gluttony, of Sex and Scandal and the ruling faction a mere one percent in numbers, but ninety percent in wealth. The Age of Power; of desire and the devotion to it.

There was no place for the pure, graceful swans in this new world order.

After a forced mass exodus from the City, they began hiding, retreating into the forests they had long ago abandoned in favor of immortality and worship. And the wood received them with open arms, granting them sanctuary and allowing them to build a small community along the banks of a lake. They had everything they could need, although from time to time a few young swans would venture into the City, only if they remained quiet about what they were, for the people of the City, blinded by poverty and aggression, needed something to blame for their hardships.

And what better to blame than a God?

The swans would wait, hidden within the forests once more, until the time they could be swans both day and night again.

Forever.

– _**Excerpt from a Swan – **_


	2. A Prince of Pomp and Poppycock

_**Disclaimer: How'd you like my fairytale-esque prologue/introduction thing? I'm brushing up on my quirky, unique, not-seen-too-often style and subject matter, so here's hoping you keep up! Don't think I forgot your struggling with **_Tragedy of Errors_**! Ah, but it was fun, right? Now, if you don't review, I will do my very best to annoy the living whatever out of you.**_

_**. . . .**_

_**. . . **_

_**Bitch.**_

HA

A blast, some screams, several gun shots and the momentary peace of the war-torn streets was broken. Food was stolen, a man was killed, a woman raped. A child cried, a man shouted, a final shot. The streets were quiet once more as the daily ritual continued for the City.

Thaddeus Gammelthorpe was not fazed.

The world was dark, the shadows around him alive and changing, warping the shapes within the alley into grotesque and violent monsters. He knew it was just his imagination, but his universe was small and his imagination was the only thing he had. Taking a grateful drag of his cigarette, he allowed the nicotine to enter his system and the smoke to fill his lungs, giving him a moment of peace and quiet, before he had to return. Return to the world of the dark and the dreary. The world of the sick and sinister. His world.

Straightening his black jacket, the butt of the cigarette was ground beneath his feet as the red light above his head switched on, flickering a few times before stabilizing. He groaned while jerking open the door he had been leaning on, already missing the coolness of the streets once the humidity of the room hit him. The heat of too many bodies too close together with no air circulation generated all around him, shouts from stage hands and performers alike as they busied themselves for the next act. He could hear the disgruntled and more than likely drunk callings from the audience, the scrambling to find another singer for Act II because Nadia still hadn't shown up, the grunts from the sex currently happening between two company members in wing left . . .

He hadn't even changed into his costume and already he had a headache.

"Thaddeus! There you are! We had to bump your Act up one because _someone_ **still** isn't here, and we need to find a replacement." An extremely flustered young woman dashed over to him, hair up in a half undone braided bun, make-up brushes poking out and her apron tied _**almost**_ too tightly. Roughly she grabbed him by the elbow and all but shoved him into the men's dressing room, throwing his costume trousers at him as she frantically pulled out the facial powder. He had to bite his tongue to stop from laughing at her.

"I take it Nadia is a no show again?" he asked casually while striping off his clothes and slipping into leggings. Out of the corner of his eye he watched her, running around like a chicken with its head cut off. It was a shame she hadn't found a husband yet to save her from this less than decent place. Although knowing her, she would probably force the poor man into this profession. He would never say this out loud, but he secretly thought she loved her high-stress, little pay job. Gave her something to do.

Well, something else rather than worry about him all day.

"Yes. I swear that girl better be dead in a ditch somewhere. And if she isn't, she will be the next time she bothers to show up. If she's drunk or getting fucked by some new low-life she thinks she loves I'll ring her unfed little neck." She ranted, viciously stabbing one of the brushes she removed from her hair into the powder.

Not soon enough Thaddeus realized his grave mistake – making her angry just before she's set to decorate his pretty little face. Last time he did that – stupidly mentioning a guy who had stood her up the night before – she nearly blinded him in one eye. With this rage, she'd probably take out both orbs as well as one of his ear drums. With a gentle eye, he turned a leaned against a dresser, waiting patiently as she tucked a tube of lipstick and an eye pencil in the pocket of her apron while turning to face the young man before her. Not even his calming aura could fix this anger, and she began harshly spreading the white substance on his face.

"You know you wouldn't kill her. Maybe give her a good tongue lashing and a few whacks as punctuations, but I doubt you'd off her." A sharp pain in the back of his scalp where she'd grabbed his head and yanked made him understand his snarky remark was unappreciated.

"What was that? Do you want me to make you visually impaired? Especially since you're on in a few minutes? Marr that handsome money maker of yours?" she snapped, caking the white on until there was no hint of his pale complexion left.

"Come on, you know it's not the face, but the voice that brings in the money." He quipped right back, to which her reply was a swift stomp on his right foot.

A few curses, some not so friendly phrases and several layers of make-up later, Thaddeus wandered out of the dressing room, nursing the nipple she had brutally twisted during the heat of their bickering. He was just about to step out onto the stage as the orchestra began his aria, when her soft tugging on his sleeve made him stop and turn. She had that soft smile on her face, and he found himself smiling right back.

"Oi, break a leg little brother." He grinned at her show of truce, but the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.

"But I'd rather break yours."

With a cruel grin of her own, she reared back and gave him a forceful shove in the middle of his chest, sending him stumbling back onto the once polished wood of the stage. Were he any less of a showman, he would never have recovered. From off stage, Jolene Gammelthorpe watched her little brother with a smile, before making her way back to try and find another performer to take Nadia's place.

"Stop fucking in the wings!" she shouted at the two behind the tormentors, snarling as Nadia stumbled in the door and up the steps, lipstick smeared and clothes askew.

On the stage Thaddeus's voice began, echoing throughout their small world.

"_Largo al factotum della citta.; Largo! La la la la la la la LA! Presto a bottega __che __l'alba e gia; Presto! La la la la la la la LA! . . ._"

_**~O~**_

She wandered through the streets alone, doing her best to blend into the shadows as the sounds of the violence rang out from everywhere. She was frightened, and at the same time, invigorated. The fear of death or worse was strangely exciting to her, especially since her parents had no idea she was out here, and alone no less. She should know better than that; she _did_ know better than that.

Yet she went out anyway.

A gunshot pierced the air nearby, and she quickly felt less invigoration and more fear. _Shame shame knows your name_ an annoying voice sang out in her head as she jumped at the voice of an angry man a few blocks away. Stepping into the soft orange glow offered by a street lamp in the overwhelming dusk, she paused in her wanderings. What was she doing? If she wanted so desperately to go out and explore the City, why didn't she do it in the daylight? It was safer in the daylight.

_Because Mummy and Daddy would have certainly caught me if I snuck out at noon. _She replied to the useless voice of reason she found herself arguing with. A heavy metal door slammed open, and she was struck where she was as a small group of people spilled onto the streets. They looked at her, but one young man in particular looked at her for longer than what was probably necessary. She belatedly realized how foolish she must look, standing there in the light of a street lamp, donning a silly white dress staring at them doe eyed. But she couldn't run, no matter what the lump of self-preservation in her throat told her – not while his dark eyes were locked with hers.

Although once he severed eye contact, and her quick observation showed no one from the group had eyes for her, she darted for the nearest shadow and slipped away into the dark. Definitely more invigoration than fear this time, that was certain as she made her way back home. Though that indescribable feeling pooling in the pit of her stomach wouldn't dissipate, even well into the night.

_***.*.***_

She was gone.

He had turned his eyes away from her for only a moment – the briefest if you asked him – and she was gone. What a vision of feminine charm, a goddess, beauty in its truest form. He had never been one to feel any emotion really, other than the melancholy emptiness his station allowed, and maybe small moments of joy and happiness with his sister. But in the matter of only a few seconds, he had gone from pure joy to absolute heartache; his emotion-muscle lurching when he found that the splendor he had just envisioned was gone.

"Did you guys see where she went?" he asked, trying to keep the frantic out of his voice while addressing the group. Most looked at him in bazaar confusion, while a few shook their heads less than apologetically. It was his sister that laughed, a smirk dancing on her painted lips.

"Why? Do you want her?" her eyes were alight with mischief, and though she knew he would never force a woman, she also knew he hadn't had sex in far too long.

"What? No. It's just, she . . . I think she would be well suited for the stage – didn't you see her? Black hair, white dress, red lips, she already has the dominating colors." Even he could hear the bold-faced lie, and so avoided eye contact with the others by looking the direction he supposed the girl had gone.

"Right, or maybe you wanted to dominate her. In any case, we didn't see where she went. Who knows, maybe she's a Swan." The others laughed at the joke, but Thaddeus was far too drenched in fantasies to laugh. One of the others, a stage hand known only as Sid draped an arm around his friend's shoulder, leading him off in the direction of their post-show dive.

"If that girl is a Swan, than Thaddeus here is a Prince." They all laughed, Thaddeus elbowing his affectionate friend in the ribcage.

"But didn't you hear? Thaddy is a Prince – Prince of Pomp and Poppycock!" someone else shouted, and the conversation quickly progressed into vulgar suggestions and flat out remarks of princes, cocks, and where any sort of swan would fit in.

_Swans don't exist_, Thaddeus thought to himself as the group stumbled into the bar. Everyone had the full intention of getting drunk, or laid, or in most instances, both; and seeing as every dive had both liquor and cheap prostitutes, everyone was going to be happy that night. Everyone it would seem, except Thaddeus Gammelthorpe. He knew she had to be real – everyone saw her – but she had just disappeared. He knew it would be best just to forget about her, and find a cute young girl to be his companion tonight; everyone loved a performer after all. And yet . . .

And yet he couldn't get her out of his head.

HA


	3. Wiseguys and Scumbags, Sluts and Swans

_**Disclaimer: Hey! Arnold is not my property. Nor is **_Swan Lake_** and **_Here Comes The Snake_**. And just to let you guys know, I have a big decision to make in Ridi, and so I'll be churning out chapters for this while I work through that crossroads. **_

HA

She writhed and moaned beneath him wildly, a delicious display of woman's splendor. Her small breasts wiggled in front of his eyes as he hooked his hips, her screams bouncing around the little room. Her slight frame, thin from hunger, glistened with sweat in the low lamplight. She cried out with an erotic whimper as her back bowed when he gripped her body, thrusting violently. Every force of his cock within her was punctuated by an _Oh God_ tumbling chaotically from her lips.

The old wooden bed frame squeaked beneath their combined weight and activity, threatening to give out at a moment's notice. Her delicate, fragile fingers grabbed at the sheets, searching blindly for some sort of purchase to keep her grounded, keep her sane. The almost annoying wails pouring from her lips were becoming more and more difficult to block out. Just when he thought he was going lose his patience, his female companion had what appeared to be an overwhelming orgasm.

_Hallelujah _he thought to himself sarcastically as he too found his grateful completion. If he had to hear one more ecstatic and uncontrollable squeal of pleasure from her high pitched voice, he was going to rip himself from within her and throw himself out the window – nakedness be damned.

He lay on top of her for a few minutes, until she started stroking his head. That was when he rolled off and to his side, staring out the window. Her voice came softly from his blind side, a gentle sound about how amazing that was, and he wondered if it was too late to throw himself out that glass pane. Closing his eyes, he drifted off into sleep – not because he was lulled by her voice, but because he wanted to avoid it. Right as he was on the cusp of dreamland, he heard her address him, and vaguely he wondered how beautiful a suicide would be if he jumped from that window, two stories up.

A few hours later, sitting down in the kitchen nursing a cup of sugar with some coffee was Jolene. After getting little to no sleep that night, she had decided to sit up, watch the sunrise, maybe have a mug of caffeine, and then chew out her jerk of a little brother for not tapping over his fuck-buddy's mouth over. And so she sat, listening to the quiet of the morning, when the soft _step-step step-step step-step_ came down the stairs. Looking up, Jolene was quite surprised to see fuck me pumps that sprouted into bare legs, the legs for days disappeared beneath a long rain coat. As soon as she saw the face of the woman, Jolene's surprise shifted focus.

"No. Way."

The redhead standing at the entry way to the kitchen seemed just as surprised to see the sister of last night's lay, her face going pale as the two women met eyes. They held their gaze for several minutes, before the blood quickly rushed back up to the intruder's face, nearly matching her hair. Without a word to Jolene she dashed for the door, gone and down the street before the raven haired woman could say anything. And so she sat at the table, contemplating life once more for several more minutes until she heard a distinct set of footsteps come down the stairs.

_Bum-bum bum-bum bum-bum_, and Thaddeus was standing in the kitchen, meeting the even stare of his sister.

"I can't believe you fucked that Cunt-Slut." Standing up with a sigh, she rinsed out her mug, trying to hold in the ranting monologue she wanted to shout at her cock-controlled little brother. He answered with his own exhale, plopping down in a chair and watching her adjust her holed and ripped plaid tights. Vaguely, he wondered why he chose the notorious redhead to fuck that night; if it was the booze or something else.

"If it helps, she wasn't as good as they say." Jolene stopped mid action, casting a look at her brother that was unreadable, even to him.

"It doesn't."

Slowly she turned and walked over to him, placing a hand on each shoulder and a practical smile on her face.

"I only wish you would find a girl actually _worth_ fucking. And maybe marrying. Someone who can take care of you because lord knows I can't do it all my life." He laughed, and her smile became more sincere as she placed a kiss to his forehead, then moved for the door.

"I'm off to the club now, but I'll see you tonight at the theatre. And you better be on time – I don't want you to suffer the same fate as Nadia." Both were well aware that after the inebriated performer stumbled into the theatre last night, Jolene smacked her around good, but she was still very much alive.

Thaddeus nodded to her, and it was only after she had gone, and he was still sitting at table that any words left his mouth.

"I need to get out of here."

_**~O~**_

Of the four wiseguys at the apartment, he was the only one that took off his hat to run a relaxed hand through sandy hair. His three companions were too busy ransacking the rooms to bother with any sort of mannerisms like that – besides, he was higher up than they were, he was allowed moments of stillness. A fifth man sat tied to a chair, looking panicked as the blonde man casually put his hat back on and lit a cigarette.

"Found it."

The world stopped as one of the guys came forward, handing the blonde man a large stack of cash. Letting it feather and listening to the hushed sound it made, he slipped it into the inner pocket of his coat while turning to the man in the chair.

"Well, this certainly has been enjoyable, Mr. Potts. Mr. Davenport would like to ask you to not steal from him again." He nodded to two of the guys, who bent and untied the man, now looking absolutely frantic.

"Here's a reminder to keep your sticky fingers out of your benefactor's pockets." Another nod, and the men held him while the other came forward with a hammer.

Screams of pain echoed throughout the small apartment and down the hallway. A few neighbors were daring enough to poke their heads out, but all of them had recognized the four men. And none of them were stupid enough to interfere.

Quietly the blonde man stepped out, closing the door swiftly behind him. The guys could handle this from here – it was all grunt mutilation now. He needed to get the money over to his boss before Mr. Davenport became concerned; take too long on an errand and you too can be suspected of a double cross. Besides, the sooner he got this taken care of, the sooner he could go to the club, and he was already late.

There was a girl he wanted to see.

_***.*.***_

Every time she saw the neon pink sign above the door, she couldn't help but roll her eyes. Force of habit, she laughed to herself while yanking open the nondescript steel door, and her slam relit the Moby in _Moby Dick_. Smoothly she navigated her way through the back hallways, carefully avoiding the girls already with patrons, and the men still looking for a good time. She slipped into a back room, smiling in greeting at a few of the girls who waved as she moved over to a small vanity, taking off her shoes and sliding down her tights. A redhead sat in a chair two stations down, and the women shared a look.

"So, Lila, how was my brother?" Jolene asked with a casual sort of snarl, and the two girls closest to them gasped in amusement.

"You fucked Thaddeus?" a blonde squealed, and Lila turned back to her mirror in an effort to avoid them, but Jolene would not be deterred from her smear campaign.

"Right and good I should think. She was screaming so loud I couldn't sleep." The blonde cackled cruelly as the Boss, a big, slimy kind of man with an unappreciated heart, stepped into the room. His presence silenced them.

"Lila, I'm moving you to the cages tonight; Helga you're still doing the bar. Jolene, I want you to work the floor." The girls nodded, and just as he was leaving, Lila let her petty anger get the best of her.

"Must be fucking him good Joe, to work not only here, but at his other theatre, _and_ you get the floor tonight." She muttered when she thought Boss was gone, and Jolene laughed at her bitterness when he returned.

"Green certainly isn't your color, Lila. She works the floor tonight because she makes the most money. She doesn't have to fuck me to get talent like that." With that said, he was out the door and down the hallway. Jolene laughed again while changing into her scandalous uniform, mirth in her eyes as Lila seethed.

As she finished getting dressed, Jolene wandered over to the redhead, kissing her carefully on the cheek.

"Be a good little doll, and run to your cages. Leave the floor work to the real women." Before Lila could get a good swipe at her, she was gone, leaving a startled and furious redhead and laughing blonde in her wake.

Not five minutes later, she was standing on a darkened stage, listening to the horny guys on the floor coercing the serving girls and laughing bawdily. She took a deep breath, nodding to the band leader off in the corner. He replied in kind, his tall black hair matching his shadow-like skin as he turned to his mates and blew the first note on his trumpet. Not even a second later the rest of the guys joined in, Jolene swayed to the music as the lights came upon her.

"_Here comes the snake and he circles your leg, He's come to play and make your body parts shake baby. He comes swervin' down your hall, it'll feel so good when he gives it his all._" She sang smoothly, her voice almost too deep to be female, but most assuredly sensual. Jolene moved around the stage, teasingly letting the straps of her slinky dress fall off her shoulders, revealing pale arms.

She was seducing them, they knew it willingly, and she was so beautiful. She let the dress drop lower and stop at her hips, yet she covered her otherwise exposed breast with a delicate arm. Her eyes roamed the lounge, searching for the one face she didn't see.

"_He's like a jail and you need an escape, want you to come get a file in your cake. I know He did you wrong and I'm here to give ya what you wanted all along._" Forcing herself to focus on the dirty old men and their fantasies, she smiled with pleasure as she turned her back on them, flashing the creamy skin hidden there.

"_Here comes the Snake_." Singing over her shoulder to them, her eyes lit up when they spotted a young blonde man step in through the door. He met her gaze with a cool smirk, weaving through the people to sit at a table near the back. Carefully, he took off his hat, revealing sandy hair and a boyish face.

"_Yes, I believe but I'd rather not pray, what I believe in I'd rather not say baby. Did your God show you the door? Well, I'm here to eat your apple to the core._" The dress was gone now, and she stepped out of it carefully as the men watched how the muscle and fat of her ass moved and rippled beneath her skin.

"_Here come the Snake._" She sang over and over again, moving off the stage and into the lap of the first patron she found. She could feel his arousal underneath his pants, and gyrated her hips up and down on him, throwing her head back in pleasure. She stood up before he could move his hands from her hips to her breasts.

The next man whose penis she occupied grabbed her breasts right off the bat, moaning in her ear chaotically when her ass moved against him. She let one of her hands travel down her stomach to caress her clit for a few precious seconds, before she was up and gone once more. From the corner of her eye she could see the blonde man watching her, and she smiled while making her way back up the stage. She liked it when he watched her.

"_I'm commin to getcha._" She finished confidently as the lights went out and the men roared. Quickly grabbing her dress, she moved backstage and into a hallway, only to be slammed against a wall with enough force to wind her.

"Mhmm, you're a pretty one you are. How about a quick fuck, yeah? Bet it'll be real good . . ." he moaned, grabbing her breast and squeezing roughly.

"Back off asshole, I'm a show, not a fuck – especially not a free fuck. Go get one of the floor girls if you want a good time." She growled, shoving him off of her as she shook with rage.

"Hey! I paid good money to see your show – more than I think it's worth! I'm just gettin what I paid for." He shouted back, quickly undoing his pants and pulling out his erection. Just as he came at her and she was about to knee him in the balls, he fell to the side with a pained grunt. She looked at her assailant for a moment, before moving her eyes to the guy who hit him. If he thought she was going to give him a suck or fuck because he saved her life –

"Are you alright?" asked the man with sandy blonde hair.

– he would be absolutely right. His eyes widened as he too realized who she was; the whole reason he came to this joint, to this neighborhood, to this half of the damn City outside of work. His heart raced when she smiled at him.

"I could have handled him." she answered with a smile, and he grinned.

"I have no doubt about that." The man on the floor groaned, and Jolene kicked him between the legs with enough force to knock him out.

"I'm Jolene." She introduced coolly, holding out her hand and ignoring the fact that she stood before him completely naked.

"I know. I'm Ted." He took her hand, trying not to acknowledge the fact that he could see her breasts.

"I know."

And just like that, he kissed her.

_**~O~**_

Thaddeus walked down the gritty streets quietly, avoiding the patrols that were out checking identification. There had been another assassination attempt on one of the royals last night, so it was only natural that the SSCA would be doing sweeps. He didn't really want to deal with the best of the worst kind of humanity at the moment.

Skirting around them, he approached the small hole in the massive wall that separated the outskirts of the City from the surrounding forests. Sucking in his gut, he crawled through the opening he'd been using as his primary escape since childhood, getting stuck only momentarily. Apparently his ass was bigger than it used to be.

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Thaddeus felt the living world fill his lungs to capacity and then some, enjoying the feeling of his stretched diaphragm. There was always something magical about the way this half of the world smelled. More alive, more free, more savage.

Earth, and grass, and water.

Shaking off his bout of poetry, the young man headed off into the wood, walking carefully as he listened to the birds. Did they only sing on this half of the Wall? Because he certainly couldn't recall once in his life when he heard them, save for out here. He wouldn't be surprised if that was the case – nothing sang in the City, save for songs of debauchery and depravity.

Deeper and farther into the forest he walked, until he could no longer hear the sounds of screams and gun shots, only the wind in the trees and the birds on the branches. The groans of the might oaks and the kiss of the sun through the leaves onto his pale skin. If he could live out here for an eternity, he would do so in a heartbeat, no doubt about it.

Suddenly he tripped on an exposed root, landing face first on a rocky shore of a lake. Glancing up in embarrassment, Thaddeus Gammelthorpe was bewitched by a flock of swans floating on top of the water.

_Magnificent. _

_***.*.***_

Rhonda drifted on the water, trying to decided if she should preen her feathers, go for a dive beneath the surface, or a quick flight while the weather was still amiable. Off a short distance away, her mother and father floated, discussing who would be best suited to wed their only daughter and child. It would have to be an excellent choice, for Rhonda was to be the next Queen of the Swans, and this decision will affect the Swan Society for at least the next one hundred and fifty years.

But Rhonda didn't want to think about that.

Her mind was still enamored by the memory of the young man within the City, his face edged with white make-up, his black hair the color of the deepest shadows and his dark eyes piercing her. Even now, after she had fled to the safety of her home and hadn't seen him since, the thought of the nameless stranger made her insides quiver. It couldn't have been lust, for she was never so wanton as to feel lust at first sight.

She was a Princess, not a whore.

Movement from the banks of the Lake caught her eye, and as she turned her long, elegant head in that direction, she nearly squawked with surprise. A tall, dark haired man stood up, only to sit down on the rocks and watch them. He smoothly slid off his shoes and slipped them into the water, and Rhonda swore she could feel his presence flow through the currents and directly to her heart. There was no doubt in her mind that it was the same man she had stumbled upon last night.

With a quick glance to see where the rest of her flock was and if they were adequately occupied, she slowly glided over to the bank where the intruder sat. Whether this ended horribly or not, she decided she didn't care.

HA


	4. Juxtaposition of Forest and Fear

_**Disclaimer: How goes it gentle readers? Good? That's good. Sorry this took so long, but things have been grim on this end, which makes a couple of months fly right by. **_

HA

It was without a doubt the strangest bird he had ever seen. There he had been sitting, soaking his feet in the cool water of the lake and enjoying the calm surrounding him, when this bold swan glides over, only to watch him. It didn't get close enough for him to touch, floating maybe three, maybe five feet away from the bank, moving with the flow of the current. Just watching him.

"_Psst._" The sound meant to frighten the bird off was out of his mouth before he realized he was thinking of making it. His voice, crisp and clear against the peacefulness of the day, did nothing to perturb the swan. It continued to watch him, bobbing up and down in silence.

"Hey."

Silence.

"Hey. _Psst._"

Silence.

"Hey."

Silence.

Growing steadily more irritated, he picked up a clump of leaves, mud and rock, tossing it half heartedly at the glorious bird. Though it made a soft _plunk_ sound and the splash forced a ripple, the swan was not startled. Rather, it looked to the spot where the threat passed, then back to him; it was as though, through that look, the swan was calling him the stupidest person alive. And he certainly felt like a fool through that gaze. Picking up another handful, he tossed it with a bit more accuracy, adding to it a

"Get lost."

But the bird didn't even bother to watch the flying clump – not even when it broke the surface a few inches away. Only bobbed up and down with the movement of the water, and watched him with a cool gaze.

_It's my Lake, you idiot _the bird seemed to say, and with his face burning red in embarrassment, he looked away. Focusing all his attention on the water he had disturbed with his irrational anger, he saw the little currents swirl with mud, turning the once clear liquid into a cloudy vision. He could still feel the ever-watchful eyes of the swan on him as it floated nearby in the waning light. Why was he getting so worked up over a swan? It was just a bird – a weird one maybe, but a bird nonetheless.

A sudden squawking pulled him nearly violently from his thoughts, and he quickly turned his head to see the swan that was dedicatedly watching him take off into the trees above his head. He was so startled he barely had time to duck before the damn thing took his head off. Looking back out onto the lake he witnessed the rest of the flock doing the same thing, darting into the surrounding forest with haste as the last fingers of daylight were stretched over the tops of the trees.

"How long have I been out here?" he wondered aloud to himself as he shook off the remaining water droplets that hadn't yet soaked into his clothes. It was nightfall already? He could have sworn it was just past noon.

"The whole latter part of the day, one should think." A second voice broke his solitude, and as quickly as he whirled around, Thaddeus Gammelthorpe came face to face with the same woman from the other night. Her feet were bare, but she still had that white dress on; she kept on talking when he said nothing.

"I would assume that would be obvious enough, seeing as the sun has vanished and the fires are being lit." she lifted one exquisite, pale arm and motioned along the banks of the Lake, introducing him to the sight of multiple burning fires. In awe, he wondered why he hadn't noticed the intricate and ornate stone buildings camouflaged into the wilderness before.

"And as you have been here since noon, that would make my statement of the whole latter part of the day true." Slowly she came forward, walking delicately over the fallen branches and exposed roots of the ancient forest. The silver of a pendant around her neck caught the light of a fire, glittering the image of an idle swan in his eyes.

"You're the woman from last night, aren't you. Outside Caesar's Theatre." She smiled with a nod, moving to sit next to him. Her eyes roamed the lake, before landing on the reflection of the moon. It never ceased to stir strong, powerful emotions within her.

"Is that the name of the place you were leaving, Caesar's Theatre?" she asked innocently, dipping her feet into the water beside his. He shivered, wanting to feel her soft skin beneath his hands.

"So it was you. Why did you run?" his hand was making passive aggressive motions, as if he were going to take hers. He never did.

"The City isn't safe for me." Her absentminded whisper pushed the bounds of his curiosity, and he looked at her gently while his mind ran away with the thought of how lovely she looked in the moonlight.

"The City is safe for no one." Their eyes met. Their hands didn't.

"You haven't left my mind since then." His voice was quiet, gentle, afraid he might frighten her off. The moon's reflection in her brown orbs captivated his sight and soul.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not." Such a bold statement from such a thin man, and she had to fight the urge to bite her lip lest it appear coy. Releasing an unsteady breath, she stood and made her way into the trees, only stopping to turn when she didn't hear his following footsteps.

"Would you like to walk with me?" there was nothing flirtatious or enticing about her, inviting without the sly, wanting undertones. He caught her smile, mimicking it to craft his own to send back, and both appreciated it.

"I don't even know your name." his heart fluttered at the way her body shifted with his statement, adjusting in the moonlight.

"That didn't matter yesterday."

He laughed, and she smiled.

"No I guess it didn't."

"So come take a walk with me. Watch the stars with me. Enjoy the night with me."

Well, he certainly couldn't turn down an invitation when she put it that way. He nodded, and after kicking the excess water of his feet and slipping on his shoes, he followed after her silhouette. Negotiating his way past the trees and bushes he supposed were really bears were really bushes were really bears were really bushes – he chased after this mysterious girl from the wood he adored.

And to his credit he only tripped twice.

Her laughter, light and airy, led him to her, and she in turn followed a path carved by the stars and surrounded by the trees, until she came to a small hill within a clearing. Thaddeus stumbled up the side, awed as he watched her twirl a few times, the dress billowing around her waist. She fell gracefully to her knees then rolled onto her hip, a patient smile on her face as she waited for him to join her. He laughed quietly to himself as he moved to sit next to her, and was amazed at just how right it felt.

"So, what's your favorite color?" his voice broke the calm, and she surprised herself with the laughter that bubbled up her throat. He grinned, obviously pleased with himself at the response his question garnered, but sat patiently for her answer nonetheless.

"Um, the pale of the ashen moon I suppose. What's yours?" she tried, but how does one describe the color of the sclera moon, like the eyes of your lover?

"Orange." She laughed again, and he felt as though the sound made him invincible. He could do anything, so long as he could make her laugh.

The night progressed quickly after that, he would enact scenes from the latest show he is in – never mind that at that very moment he was missing a rehearsal, and that his sister was working herself into a brilliant fit of rage. She would remain silent but smile bright as the sun, clapping enthusiastically when he would finish and take an elaborate bow. Then she would perform little dances from their upcoming Midsummer festival, and sing to him the songs she'd known all her life. They told each other of their families and friends, of favorite foods, memories, dreams, dislikes, and fears. He didn't tell her that sometimes while he performed, he was dressed like a woman. And she didn't tell him that she was a Swan.

Their hands still hadn't met.

The pair had been laying side by side in the cool grass, she pointing out the constellations and telling him the stories behind them. He would listen to her intently, asking questions every now and again, some would make her laugh but all she answered honestly. When the morning Robins began their songs, she sat up abruptly, looking down the hill just as a man and woman marched assiduously towards them.

"There you are my dear!" the woman exclaimed, her arms held open before her.

"Where have you been? Dawn is approaching." At the man's words, she jumped to her feet while he sat up, eyes wide and mouth open.

"Dawn?" the pair shouted, and while she made a small move towards the other woman, he lifted his gaze to the sky, amazed to see the pink blush of morning seeping over the trees.

_The night's already gone?_ He wondered to himself, and with a sudden sense of urgency was on his feet and frantically trying to figure out in which direction the City lay. Of all the times to have a horrid sense of direction, he cursed to himself, this ranked in the top five. Spinning in a few circles in hopes of getting his bearings, he stopped when finding himself face to face with the man that had approached. He was a tall man, with black hair and mustache dark as the shadows that had surrounded him. His white shirt and dark trousers looked crisp despite the savage surroundings, his female companion donning an elegant floor length white gown. They both had a silver swan pendant around their necks, much like the girl. It was all so very odd.

"How do I get back to the City?" the new pair looked taken aback, as if he had insulted them in every possibly way while the girl wrapped one arm around her waist and the other went to cover her mouth. The man stared him down, analyzing everything about Thaddeus, before he seemed to come to a startling conclusion, stepping back quickly. Lifting his arm with precision, he pointed an agile finger towards the rising sun. When he spoke, his voice was a deep baritone that seemed to vibrate the timber of the trees encasing them.

"The City lies there." His words were final, and as the older woman took the younger into her arms, she too had something to say.

"Arise and go, Poet. And do not return."

The surprise on his face couldn't be masked, and as he tried to meet the eyes of the young woman, he found himself disappointed when he did. The look in her brown orbs brokered no question to her agreement with her elders: he had better gone before the sun arose, and not return. He didn't want to admit how much that hurt, deep in his very soul. And why should it? She was just another dame, another bird her would seduce and sex then not think of her again.

And yet deep within his heart, he knew she could never be just another bedpost notch.

With a nod in their direction, he took off for the horizon, looking back only once, although that could have been a trick of the light aided by the shadows. When he had disappeared from view, Rhonda sighed with an obvious tone of melancholy. And her parents knew she was saddened by the strange foreigner and his departure.

"I certainly hope he never comes back. Or better yet had not appeared at all, but that cannot be helped." Her mother voiced bravely, as the sun broke through the morning cloud cover, bathing the lake in warm pink light. Rhonda suppressed her gasp at the feeling that, even now several years after the first, still surprised and pained her. Her knees gave out, and the soft whimpers and groans from her parents told her that theirs' had done the same. The familiar feeling of horror and discomfort filled her from the inside out as she watched glorious, soft white feathers emerge from every pore on her body; the short locks of raven hair falling in clumps from her head as it shrank. Her skeletal structure was also forced to change rapidly, bones crunching and folding, extending and bending, until she was no longer a young woman, but a young swan. Twisting her long neck, her bead-black eyes gazed down her beak, elegant wings spreading to their full extent as she let out a squawk of irritation. Her dress slipped from her form as the sun invaded their forest of magic and illusion; Rhonda quickly pecked at the chain around her breast before looking to her mother and father.

Commanding Swans, the both of them. And both turned to watch her as she took off into the sky, headed for the City or some place that lay beyond. They understood; disapproved but understood nonetheless. She was, after all, a young Swan, her heart still swaying to the beat curiosity placed within at the sight of the City. They themselves had felt the same thing, long ago and in another time. But she would simply have to outgrow it as they had done.

She was going to be the Queen of the Swans someday.

She could not afford to be heartsick over a tainted human.

_**~O~**_

To say that he felt empty would be an understatement; Thaddeus had wanted so much to kiss her. His lips burned and his fingers itched as he thought of that smooth, creamy skin that taunted him all night long as he sat in her company. As the sun moved higher into the morning sky and showed him the way back, he couldn't stop thinking of that young raven haired woman – her eyes full of life as she watched him perform the Largo he was supposed to be rehearsing that night with his sister. Oh dear, his sister.

"I'm a dead man." Bemoaning his fate, Thaddeus rushed towards the hole in the Wall, wondering if Jolene had sent out the stage hands yet. She could be vicious when it came to defending the honor of her shows, and not even her cast could be safe from the wrath she possessed.

The large, warn Wall came into view so suddenly he was momentarily surprised; the thought briefly crossed his mind that he had gone deeper into the woods than that. _Apparently not_ he admitted with a shrug as he looked for the opening hidden within the barrier. The echoes of gunfire overpowered the birds, and the wind was outmatched by the screams. He knew he was home now, Thaddeus realized as he listened to the angry, forceful shouts of the SSCA patrolmen demand identification and paperwork just on the other side of the Wall. He had to stop, leaning against the brick as he waited for the voices to fade into the distance. It would be a bad idea to poke his stupid little head through the Wall with _them_ standing there – he'd be in jail or worse before he could even reach for the proper ID and paperwork he _didn't_ have. Leaving the City was expressly forbidden unless one had the proper authorization.

No one ever received it.

Fighting back the memories that scared his mind from the last time he was caught trying to flee the City, Thaddeus almost missed the sounds of heavy boots making their way down the street and past the hole. They didn't notice it, they never did, and for that he was eternally grateful. As they disappeared down the abuse torn blocks, he released a shaky breath, squeezing his way through the opening and quickly righting himself as if he had always been there.

Whistling a catchy, melancholy tune, he strolled down the streets as if he belonged there, images of pretty little maidens dancing in his head. Not three steps down the lane he was pulled off his feet and into an alleyway; his back against the brick wall of a surrounding building. An arm pressed against his neck while another hand covered his mouth as he looked upon his attacker. What he found surprised him.

"Hmmga?" The shock in his voice was enough to stir a smirk across his captor's face, a smirk he knew all too well. Short blonde hair curved and curled around her chin, blue eyes bright with a mixture of fear and protection.

"Quiet Thaddeus, if they find us here they'll kill us both." Her whisper was harsh as she released him, before turning on her heel and making her way swiftly down the narrow alley. Sending a quick look out the entrance to be sure no one was watching, he moved to follow her. She paused to wait for him, and without words led him through the twists and turns of the dark passageway. She didn't speak as she guided him, save for when they stopped at a door, old and hidden within a notch in the wall.

"Sector Five is forbidden to the likes of us; and they've been checking IDs and papers all day. Follow me, even out here the walls have ears and eyes." With a forceful shove, she knocked open the door and ushered him inside.

It was a dimly lit hallway, a few well-placed burning lamps doing little to dispel the shadows. He followed her step per step as she moved, flashes of memories nipping at the corners of his mind – walking down a passageway similar to this one, holding Jolene's hand tightly in his own. Moving down the way, he could hear the sirens of the world outside fade away as his mind was assaulted by the memory of walking down the mortuary halls with his sister, to look upon the corpse of their dead father. His body riddled with bullet holes as he and every one of his work brothers were lined up outside the mine they were excavating and shot by an SSCA firing squad. Face covered in blood and mine residue, the nearly-made orphans couldn't be sure if it was a blessing or a curse that those bastards hadn't shot their beloved patriarch in the head.

His poor coordination on the stairs that suddenly appeared before his feet pulled him from the recesses of his recollection.

"Watch your step." Her monotonous warning came seconds too late, as he caught himself just before face planting on the cold step. Shaking off his angry rant, Thaddeus ascended the stairs carefully in the near dark, stubbing his toes painfully on the rotten wood every now and again. To punctuate his blunders, he would send pointed glares at Helga's back; she ignored them, however, in lieu of their destination.

An old, warn and beaten door rose from the top of the step like a monolith – upon reaching it Helga looked back at the young man with an expression that spoke volumes in the silence of the passageway. With a grunt, she forced her way through the door and into a small room lit by a few weak lamps. He followed her, taking in and analyzing the sparse room. He noticed one bed with a small table next to it which was help up a lamp, a dresser parallel to them on the opposite wall. A desk was placed at an angle in one corner, housing the other lamp as well as books which more than likely came from the wooden bookshelf beside it. There was a chair tucked in as a companion to the desk host to a figure, a dark blue bandana covering their hair.

It was when his blonde guide swiftly shut the door behind them that the figure turned within the seat – a seat which Thaddeus noticed they were bound to presumably for life – and a smile bloomed on his wide face.

"What have you brought home now my dear?" he asked with mirth not quite fitting his appearance as Helga made her way to him, one hand on his shoulder as she bent to kiss his lips smoothly.

"This is Thaddeus Gammelthorpe, Jolene's younger brother. Thaddeus, this is my husband, Arnold."

Now introduced, Arnold propelled his wheelchair forward with the force of his arms, before taking Thaddeus's hand and shaking it with enthusiasm. The young raven-haired man was just as enthusiastic with his own greeting, finding his host's smile infection.

"I certainly hope he isn't another radical, Helga. Last time you brought one of those home, you married him." his remarked earned him a swat on the shoulder and she smirked while easing herself onto the desk, but otherwise let the comment slide.

"Are you a radical?" Thaddeus found himself asking before realizing just how stupid that was. Obviously he was, if he lived in Sector Five – everyone knew that Sector Five was the four or five blocks of the city dedicated to housing criminals – most of which were radicals against the CA Royals. Security was usually tight, but that didn't mean that guards couldn't be bought off every now and again with money, drugs, women, or any combination of the three.

"I was born with legs; it was the SSCA that took them away. Yes I am a radical, but due to recent events, I only do most of the planning – it's Helga here who now does the running for us." He laughed, patting useless left leg with nothing but good humor. Thaddeus watched Helga's face darken for a moment, but said nothing.

"And how do you know I won't just go to the guards and bust you?" he asked as he found himself something to lean against; the wire frame of the small bed.

"We know your history just as well as our own. Why on earth would you aide the very men who took your parents from you?" was Helga's counter question, and Thaddeus found himself nodding. There was no need to ask how they knew his past; Helga and Jolene were good friends, and facts would no doubt have been shared between the two over the years.

"So why did you bring me here? Are you needing a new recruit or something?" it was becoming obvious to him that Helga was become both bored and irritated by the constant answering of one question with another, but Arnold it seemed was rather happy to just have a visitor.

"No such luck, Gammelthorpe. My main reason was to get you off these streets – the guard has been doubled in the last few hours and they've been checking papers like nobody's business. The other was to find out where the hell you've been. No one as seen you all night, and everyone at the theatre has been worried we lost both Gammelthorpes in one day." As she elaborated Thaddeus felt the blood drain from his face. Both Gammelthorpes? Did she say lost both Gammelthorpes?

"Where's my sister? Where's Jolene?" he was no longer leaning.

"Again part of the problem. Whoa whoa whoa, calm down turbo. None of us have seen her all night, but that doesn't necessarily mean the worst. She never showed at the theatre for rehearsal last night, and never answered the door to your place. Everyone knows there are only two keys, and the door was locked so we waited for you to show. Again, no luck since you bailed too. The whole company has been on pins and needles all night – so why don't you go back home and check there, and if that yields no luck, then head to Moby's and we'll go panic from there. Capisce?" There was no room for argument in her tone, and Thaddeus realized that he didn't even want to as he nodded. The only feeling he had was the need to get home to find his sister. His only family left.

All thoughts of the mysterious woman had fled his head.

"Good. Now you're gonna want to take the back alleys – I'd go with you but any group larger than one is being stopped, questioned, and removed. Just stay in the shadows and you'll be fine. Oh, and Thaddeus? Hope you find her."

With one more nod, he shook Arnold's hand again and bowed his head to Helga before making his hasty retreat out the door. It wasn't until they heard his heavy footfalls disappear down the steps and along the passage that Helga turned to her beloved husband.

"I'll have to go to the club soon." She said quietly, and Arnold took her hand in his, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles.

"I hate it as much as you do, but you have to keep up appearances. If they were to discover you loved me, they'd have you killed as a way to punish me. I can't have that." He murmured, opening her fist to kiss her palm with grown sensuality.

"I know that. But I hate feeling as though I'm betraying you at your own wishes. So I want you to know that even though another man may enjoy this body, this heart will always belong to you." She emphasized her words by taking his own hand and resting it against her chest, soothing both their minds if only temporarily. His responding smile morphed from one of pure love to something more devious as his digits nonchalantly moved down to her breast, squeezing it daringly. Helga laughed.

"Don't worry husband, we have time."

They both laughed in a moment of carefree love as she took his hands once again and used them to caress along her thighs, lifting her dress up and over her head.

_**~O~**_

Making it back to the housing unit he and his sister shared wasn't so difficult, Thaddeus found much to his relief. Following the path of the alleys, he only had one near run-in with a pair of guards – they had been leaning against the guard tower sharing a smoke. He eyed the high powered rifles slung from their shoulders, the green hilted Bayonets at faithfully at their sides. The bright red of the arm band stood strong against the faded forest green grey of their uniform, a golden Fleur-de-lis resting above a black infinity symbol bold on the men's biceps.

Deciding the men were too much for his tired and worried body to handle, Thaddeus had turned to find another way when a violent sounding warning alarm went off, startling both him and the two guards. Tossing the cigarette off to the side without bothering to snuff it out, both men took off down the street and around the corner. Deciding to hold off moving until he was sure it was safe, Thaddeus waited until he heard the telltale gunfire and the screams that accompany them before he made his way swift and stealthy past the checkpoint. He stood and surveyed his surroundings for a moment, before moving over to where the forgotten and still burning cigarette lay. Picking it up carefully, he put it to his lips and inhaled gratefully while making his way past the stand.

Back in his assigned sector, Thaddeus was disappointed at the overwhelming feeling of safety that mixed with the fear which was always there, pinching the back of the neck and biting at heels. The only place he felt truly at ease was out there, beyond the Regime and the Wall, within the forest. He didn't have to worry about being shot – accidentally or purposefully – by the damn SSCA, nor did he have to work in that theatre. Out there, he was free to be himself, and he was surprised to realize he felt most at peace with that woman on the hill.

Without warning Thaddeus stopped in his tracks, a dazed look marring his features.

"Damn it all – I didn't get her name."

Another reason to be melancholy thrown onto his shoulders, he sighed heavily and picked up his pace towards his home.

The closer he drew, the faster he smoked until soon he was puffing out the gray contaminate more than he was savoring the effects it held. He had begun running prior to him realizing it, and the young Gammelthorpe soon found himself winded when he finally made it to the door of their unit the housing block. His usually nimble fingers felt pudgy and useless as he fumbled with key he had negotiated out of his jacket pocket. Taking a few attempts to get the key right, Thaddeus was huffing with irritation by the time he finally managed to shove the key directly in the lock and turn it; the door opened with a forceful shove to reveal a quiet, lonely house.

He thought his heart might stop.

"Jolene?" his voice matched his trepidation, and as he walked through the kitchen towards the steps to their bedrooms he found he hated the echo of his steps above all else. Once at the top of the stairs, a quick check of his room and then the bathroom both yielded the same results: nothing.

"Please be here, Joe." His whisper came as a surprise to his ears as he placed a hand on her doorknob, half to open it and half to steady his shaking appendage. With a reassuring exhale he turned the knob and let himself in. Of all the things he was expecting to see, what actually lay before him was more than a shock.

Jolene was sprawled on her bed, the sheets wrapped around her lower waist in all sorts of naughty ways. Her normally small to average size breasts were aided by gravity into pert and plump mounds. A man with sandy colored hair was at her side, the sheets also twisted around his middle, one hand above his head while the other was resting on one of Jolene's breasts with a casual sort of intimacy. They were sleeping so deeply that Thaddeus was surprised they weren't snoring the windows out.

Just as he was about to back out quietly and let them sleep until fully rested, the man gave his sister a good squeeze, and she responded with a throaty moan.

"_**GAHH!**_" he screamed, shielding his eyes as he threw himself backwards out the door. He delayed just enough to see his sister bolt up and the man flip off the bed before he slammed the wooden barrier shut and took off down the stairs, taking them two or three at a time and nearly breaking his neck.

"It burns! It burns!" he comically shouted, and couldn't hold back his laugh with he heard Jolene's roar echo throughout the small space.

"_**THADDEUS EDWIN GAMMELTHORPE!**_"

He felt safe and at home once more.

HA


	5. Excerpt From a Thespian

_**Disclaimer: Well, now that I got over that bitch of writer's cock-block, I'll give you this. Enjoy darlings.**_

HA

The old man was on the stoop again today. Yelling at anyone who dared to pass, shouting profanities before working himself into tears. Tawdry street gossip was as gullible with his history as with who is sleeping with whom. Some said he was once a great actor, that lured thousands of patrons a week away from the glamour and splendor from the inner City and into the dirty burrows. Others claimed that he was once the head of the guard, but that the murder of his family by radicals pushed him to insanity. One story even maintained that he was the last known child of a human and a Swan, which the Royals had experimented on in hopes of finding the cures for several ailments – and that he finally escaped with the help of a young Royal who later lost her life.

Whatever his story, the brain fever had forever erased it from his memory, taking with it any coherent thought and leaving in its wake incessant gibberish.

Most passersby would walk around him, giving as much space as possible for as little interaction as possible. On any other day he would be just the same as they, avoiding the ramblings of an old man – but today something was off. Different. Perhaps it was the prophetic words of a madman. Perhaps it was the pull of an Otherworldly destiny. Perhaps it was the curiosity that so willingly killed the cat. Perhaps it was –

_-You! Thaddeus Gammelthorpe! Woe unto you and yours for the pain your humanity will cause!-_

Perhaps it was that the crazy, homeless man knew his name.

Making his way the man waving his arms frantically above his white-haired head, the young man was amazed at the strength with which the frail hand grabbed his wrist.

-_Beware the Full Moon, the Harbinger of Death arrives with the pale of the Full Moon! Base desires shall be your doom!-_

Wiggling free from his tight grasp, the man squirmed until he had arranged himself a minimum of three feet away. The older man kept shouting profanities and warnings, quoting scriptures the passersby had never heard, from a book they didn't know. He let the young man stumble away, eyes half crazed with memories and visions he could see but not articulate, the silver pendant around his neck burning into the skin on his chest. The raven haired, doomed man rushed away quickly, pulling out a cigarette and a packet of matches as he headed for the theatre.

He was unaware of the dark destiny that was barreling towards him in the form of a young woman; and the old man was powerless to warn him.

– _**Excerpt from a Thespian – **_


	6. For Your Entertainment

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Hey! Arnold. No, my darlings, I haven't forgotten you.**_

HA

The kitchen was silent as the three of them assembled so no one was touching anyone else. Jolene had set herself at the table, using the coffee mug to warm her hot palms and frigid fingertips; Thaddeus was perched on the sink, sending peevish looks from his sister to the intruder who groped her. Said pervert was leaning against the doorframe, doing his best to look mortified but smirking nonetheless. Just as the younger Gammelthorpe opened his mouth to start another tirade, Jolene began to speak.

"Well, it's not like you've never done the same thing." She laughed as her little brother bent his head low in the sink, forcing retching noises from his mouth.

"What? You have." She fired back, enjoying the moment for what it was. By then Ted had pushed himself off the frame and moved to Jolene, kissing her once slowly before reaching for his hat and coat. They had been hanging lonely and precarious on an empty kitchen chair, waiting patiently for his hand to perform that familiar motion – the casual slip of the coat, the fingers to run through his hair before settling the fedora on the locks.

"I'll see you tonight." He whispered against her lips, and she hummed in satisfaction before watching him walk to the door.

"Good to meet you Thaddeus."

"_**Likewise**_." Came the response still embedded within the sink. The sound of something thrown was on his heels as Theodore Bentwood fled the apartment in hopes that his Mr. Davenport was still asleep. Not likely, as Mr. Davenport only ran the entire south and east sections of the City, and was second only to the Royals themselves. It was very unlikely that he would sneak in unnoticed.

Jolene watched him disappear as she chucked the salt shaker at her brother's back. A direct hit much to his dismay.

"_Good_ _**Lord**_ woman! What was that for?" he whined, doing his best to assuage the pain throbbing between his shoulder blades. He turned to face her, watching with a suspicious eye as she stood, tightening the belt of her robe around her skinny waist as if it were her resolve.

"You were being an ass. I like him, a lot, so we were intimate. You've fucked for a whole lot less." He opened his mouth to shoot back a response, but his sister was far too used to that.

"Case in point, Lila."

He shut his mouth.

He opened his mouth again. One of her eyebrows rose in authoritative challenge. He closed his mouth again. Three slow, quiet minutes of staring and Thaddeus's posture slumped as he released a ragged sigh.

"He's a Goombah." He finally voiced. Thaddeus Gammelthorpe was no fool; he had seen this sandy-haired man's hat, his coat, his shoes. He knew the man his sister was infatuated with was in some dirty business. But then, weren't they all?

"And you're a drag queen." Was her quick response, and he smiled even as his defenses failed to rise.

"That's only when I'm working."

Jolene smiled, completely throwing her little brother through a loop. Her eyes darted to the floor for the briefest of moments – that was all she needed – before meeting the dark orbs of her little brother and occasional ward. She was no fool either.

"I often see him at the club, but he's not like the others. They come and pay to watch my fall; he goes to watch my rise. It's enough for me."

Honestly, Thaddeus had never seen his sister this – _soft_ – before. He knew she was a good woman with a feminine side, but this was the first time in his life she allowed him to see most of it. And what could he do, but smile back like the good brother he was?

"I get it."

And then she looked up, brown eyes bright with appreciation, but didn't move to embrace him. There was no need. The words were suddenly out of his mouth before he could realize it.

"I think I'm in love."

Finally he was the one to surprise her.

"With who? Oh God not Lila I hope." Yet even as she inquired he was shaking his head. It wasn't Lila, could not and would never be.

"No, no, it's not Lila. I met someone last night. The most beautiful woman I have ever seen." His answer was dreamlike, as if he were caught in the death grip of some marvelous trance. And by the look in his eyes, Jolene could tell it was a pleasant one. She slowly rose to her feet, moving to stand by her brother as she took his hands.

"Then I wish you all the happiness those of our station cannot afford."

With a grin he lifted her calloused hands to his lips to kiss them affectionately.

"And we'll all live happily ever after." he replied blissfully.

Both knew it was unlikely.

_**~O~**_

It was eerily silent among the fallen buildings, once testaments to the Empire. But the monuments had long crumbled away, and the magnificent structures now served as beautiful tombs. She flew along haphazardly, beady black eyes darting from one lonely building to another. The sky around and overhead was a crystal blue, matching the lucid waters of her home lake. The lucid waters of the lake she left behind.

This was the place he called home? How horrible that the leaders of his people should allow them to live in such deplorable conditions. Were the people fed? Clothed? Safe?

The naivety of her life, which she had embraced and was sheltered by, burned away with the high rising sun. How anyone could have survived this place was beyond her – the surroundings themselves beyond her dark imagination. It nearly broke her, realizing that her parents were right in keeping her far removed from this world. What if she was discovered? What would the creatures of this bleak universe do?

A shot echoed around her, a fast wind zipping through the feathers of her elegant wings and she knew there was trouble. Shouting erupted from below and as her graceful neck bowed low to see what the commotion was – she was startled to find that it was _her_. Armed men aimed their weapons at her, pointing and shouting and in a moment of unashamed fear she shot high into the air before spinning wildly and diving back down again. Swooping through their numbers, she dipped and bobbed and weaved among the streets until finally losing them.

Exhausted, she landed clumsily against the brick wall of a dark alley, breathing heavily and attempting to hide as much of her brilliant white feathers as possible.

It was here the Jolene Gammelthorpe found the Swan.

And it was here the Jolene Gammelthorpe had to cover her mouth to subdue the scream desperate to emerge.

The pair remained motionless for an incalculable amount of time, staring each other down, sizing each other up. It was at long last that Jolene slowly reached forward with a tentative hand, wanting nothing more than to stroke the soft feathers of the glorious bird of Myth and Legend. The bird hissed, pecking defensively as she backed up, puffing out to look as big as she could. Her black eyes almost seemed to narrow as Jolene's hand came closer, before it dropped. Her astounded side gone, the elder Gammelthorpe slapped both hands on her hips and all but growled.

"Now listen you – I'm not here to harm you. I'm here to go to work. But if you're nice, and don't try to bite me again, I'll take you with me and keep you safe. In case you weren't aware, Swan's aren't exactly welcome in this City."

While she thought she was just talking to a simple animal, it was in fact Jolene who was unaware. The magical creature she lectured could in fact understand what was being said to her, and though her face would have shone red with indignation, Rhonda was uncomfortably aware of what people thought of Swans here. This place was evil to her, and as if she were Dante in this Inferno her Virgil would be here to lead her. And if she were lucky, she may in fact come across her Beatrice.

Slowly the bird rose, ruffling her feathers to attain an air of dignity. Jolene was surprised again when the creature stared her down, before turning and waddling off only to stop a moment later and look back. Almost as if to ask if she were coming. After all, she had lowered herself to walking rather than flying – the least this woman could do was fallow.

"I'm coming –_your Grace_." She muttered under her breath, making her way calmly after the bird. But four steps later she stopped again, and this time when the bird turned to look the woman was opening a door.

"Through here."

Dignity gone but attempting to salvage it anyway, Rhonda waddled back to the door she had previously collapsed against, head lifted regally as she moved through the small entranceway. Jolene could only try to smother her laugh as she followed.

Neither were aware of the eyes that had watched them step per step – at first wanting a quick fuck before realizing they had stumbled upon something better.

Much better indeed.

_**~O~**_

The white clouds swirled in the clear blue sky, like waves upon the ocean, or the ripples in a shell. It was peaceful on the lake, the Swans floating gracefully on top of the water idly. The female juveniles were off towards the middle, dipping first one wing, than the other into the water in a form of synchronized dancing; a ballet the flock were choreographing for a celebration. After all, it wasn't every day that the future Queen of the Swans married.

Brooke and Buckley bobbed with the movement of the water speaking excitedly over the betrothal of their daughter. They had found a good Cob from a noble lineage, which had traced back to before the time the cursed humanity began. Brooke knew the family, the Chosen one being the seventh son of a seventh son – named after some composer or other, Wolfgang something – and now all that was left was the planning. It was no secret she delighted in the planning of her only Cygnet's wedding.

She and her husband had already decided that the fall solstice would be an excellent time for a Swan Wedding. A full solar eclipse was expected then, which would undoubtedly bring good luck to both their Union and their bed – offspring would be almost guaranteed by the following spring; a thought that thoroughly excited Brooke. Buckley, though holding descendants in high regard, wasn't nearly as concerned as his wife. It was Rhonda's happiness that was most important.

And Wolfgang would without a doubt be the Swan to make her happiest.

_Lord and Lady, whenever you are ready, we await you. _A young Swan, her voice soft with youth, drifted towards her King and Queen, head bent low in submission. The monarchs met black eyes, before joining their subjects in the center of the lake. Wings dipping gently into the water, back and forth back and forth the pair waltz to the sound of the forest. The flock around them first provided the music, humming a tune that would sound faerish to mortal ears, before joining their Lord and Lady.

In circles they moved slowly, then gracefully took to the skies, droplets of water following them.

_**~O~**_

It was already well past twelve when Ted found himself standing in the old train station. Long ago it had been the central hub and heart of the City, the main artery of travel in and out for the citizens. But times had changed and the place was primarily deserted, save for the industrial trains used to cart supplies, paraphernalia and illegal good from one set of dirty hands to another.

Sweat began to collect on his neck and forehead as he waited for one such train pass. The chains rattled violently, kicking up rocks and debris and turning them into ferocious projectiles. With a practiced motion he moved his head three fourths on an inch to the left, avoiding a black eye or a decapitation. In doing so, his eyes caught the glimmer of the pond. Created by industrial run off and heavy rainfall, he could recall many people disappearing in the winter only to be found floating and bloated in that polluted water come spring.

_Thuck-thunk. Thuck-thunk. Thuck-thunk._

As the train disappeared around the bend, Ted crossed the iron rails with little caution. His destination was what had been coined once upon a time the Conductor's Lounge: a medium sized building used for hung over and tired conductors to rest up in, just past the ticket booth. Said booth stood lonely as ever, the glass a brown hue from the dirt and the sun's rays. It was any wonder the protective shield hadn't yet broken, through that small hole at the bottom by the counter hid from the world of whole slew of cash. Just waiting for someone to come along and break it out from its prison.

Opening the door to the lounge, Ted was surprised to find that rather than his boss the Elder Davenport, it was the son Gino sitting behind the desk. A few of his other cohorts stood about, some looking angry, others nervous, but none looked too pleased. Making his way up to the younger man, Ted nodded his head in respect, choosing his words carefully before deciding to speak.

"Gino, where's the Boss?" something flashed in the darker eyes of the one sitting, and Ted was certain he hit a nerve. Calmly Gino set down the papers he was shuffling in order the fold his hands on the desk, meeting the subordinate's gaze dead on.

"Pops retired." It was simple. It was concise. It was unsettling.

"He retired? Why didn't he let any of us know?" someone to the left asked, and Ted had to close his eyes in regret as Gino leaned back in his newly inherited high back chair.

"He just made the decision this morning. You're more than welcome to go to the house and ask him all the questions yourself."

Some of the men took his advice and left.

Ted didn't.

What the men found when they reached the manor was a quiet place. And when they entered the kitchen, they found Mr. Davenport fresh from his trip to the acupuncturist – this profession worked with knives and left his instruments in. And when they exited the front door in shock, they were met by a firing squad handpicked and loyal to Gino.

None of them came back.

Back in the Conductor's Lounge, Gino was laying down the new law of the land to his subordinates when the door was thrown in by a large man in dark blue pinstripe. He was huffing and heavy, trying to catch his breath as the Goombahs watched him in mild curiosity. By his girth alone they knew who he was, but only Gino moved to receive him.

"What can I do for you, your Highness?" he asked with a smooth tone as he motion for Ted to pour a drink for the flustered Royal. The amber liquid sloshed inside the crystal as he dropped in a single cube of ice before handing it over to his boss, who in true Silk Button fashion presented it with a smile.

"Gino? Where's your dad?" he asked when he recognized the younger hands of the junior Davenport. The younger man shrugged with a well-placed smirk.

"My old man suddenly got it in him to retire, so now I'm working our sectors. Now, what can I do for you Harold?"

The fat man plopped down onto one of the couches, drinking nearly the entire glass of alcohol in one shot before beginning his tale.

"I was on my way to Caesar's, hoping to get in a quick fuck before meeting up with some SSCA squad leaders. Just as I approached the side entrance, I see this dark haired dame, and she's talking to a Swan. I mean a _Swan_. If those damn legends are true, then I want that Swan. And I want you to get it for me." Harold demanded, holding out his glass in signal for a refill. Ted poured him another as Gino sat at the desk, thinking it all over with precise consideration.

"Are you sure it was a Swan? There was no way it could have been a duck or something, right?" The glare that the Royal shot him was in no way pleasant, and would take no answer but _yes sir_.

"It was Swan. And if you and your men can't get it for me, then maybe I'll have to find someone else who can – maybe to run the east and south sections while I'm at it."

Holding up his hands in defense, Gino tried to pacify his own boss with a good-natured laugh.

"Calm down Mr. Berman, if it's this bird you want, I'll get it for you. I'm just trying to get my facts straight. I mean, no one has seen a Swan in what? Fifty years?" he laughed again, and this time Harold joined him. The Royal accepted one last drink before thanking Gino for his assistance in the matter, and leaving to go meet up with the Squad Captains. Something about information on an illegal union between a criminal in Sector Five and a stage worker.

As soon as he was gone, Gino turned his sights on Ted as all the other Goombahs faded from his view.

"Do you still have that woman who works at Caesar's?" his smile was sinister, and for a brief moment Ted understood what the Elder Davenport must have felt just before death.

"Are you asking me to use her in order to get that damn Royal his bird?"

The room became uncomfortably hot as Ted met Gino's stare. The younger man laughed an empty, cold sound.

"Let me rephrase that. Mr. Bentwood, do you still want those exit visas?"

_**~O~**_

It wasn't very difficult to smuggle the bird into her assigned office. In fact, she didn't have to smuggle at all – the pair walked through the halls without attempting to hide anything. A few of the Hands looked at them oddly but other than that said not a word; they had seen performers do far stranger things than walk the halls with a Swan.

They had made it into the secluded room within minutes of entering the theatre, and Jolene quickly locked the door. Spinning on her heel, she leaned back and ran a shaky hand through her dark hair.

"Good job Jolene – you successfully smuggled an illegal bird into your office. What now?" mumbling to herself, Jolene tilted her head sideways, and the office fell quiet as the graceful white fowl mimicked her movements. The Gammelthorpe momentarily stopped her breathing as the two once again stared each other down.

As the seconds ticked by, Jolene realized that this wild animal was in fact copying her mannerisms. She let out a shriek and spun on her heel, unlocking the door and all but ripping it off the hinges in her escape. In that same moment the bird jolted backwards.

Feathers and squawks filled the otherwise empty room as the creature knocked knickknacks and supplies from their resting places. She squawked angrily, pecking at anything she could before suddenly stopping atop the desk. Surrounded by discarded feathers and makeup brushes, she looked at the framed photo in surprise. Why hadn't she seen it before? The resemblances were uncanny – like parents like children, like brother like sister.

The man whom she had become smitten with and was in fact trying to find, had a sister. A sister who had taken it upon herself to smuggle a Swan into a theatre. A Swan who was an illegal bird and in love with the brother.

Small world.

Cautiously, Jolene opened the door and poked her head in, amazed to see the bird standing on her desk and staring down a picture. Slowly she approached, and when the bird turned its head to meet her gaze, Jolene found in those little black eyes something almost human. A longing she had seen in the eyes of every City dweller was present in the orbs of a wild Swan. She couldn't help herself.

"I'd like to put you in a few acts, if you promise not to bite any of us. As children we are all told about Swans, but never have we actually seen any. You could be just what the people of this City need."

Much to her quickly mounting surprise, Jolene watched as the bird bowed her long, graceful neck and fell off the desk, moving towards the door. In spite of herself Jolene laughed, following the bird towards the stage before running quite unexpectedly into her brother.

"Thaddeus! Just the man I was looking for. I want you to do a mostly impromptu act with the bird. Now, you two come up with some ideas while I go outside and rile us up a crowd. Just please, make sure it's family friendly." With that she was dashing down the hall towards the door, leaving her brother confused in her wake.

"But it's a bird!" he shouted after her, and was amazed to hear a reply.

"_She's smarter than she looks_!"

Fifteen minutes later Thaddeus was standing on the stage in front of a crowd of mostly children, a Swan at his side and bright Fresnel lights in his eyes. It was quiet as the children sat in chairs and on laps, wide-eyed at the sight of the magical bird of their fairytales standing before them.

Suddenly she spread her great wings, and the audience awed at the movement. Tears fell from the eyes of the mothers and fathers who were blessed enough to witness it as their kids laughed and reached for the bird. Feeling empowered by the reaction, Rhonda squawked and pecked Thaddeus on the back of the thigh. He jumped, startled, and the crowd roared with laughter.

An ominous glint sparkled in her eyes as she reared back, and went to peck him again. Forewarned, Thaddeus avoided with a side step, but Rhonda pursued him, chasing with a playful invigoration. Sid, safely hidden in Wing Left, stepped out to hand him a soft bristle broom, and Thaddeus snatched it gratefully on the second pass.

The tables turned, Rhonda took to the air in order to avoid being hit. As she glided over the audience, the lights followed her, giving an ethereal glow to the gracefully white bird. The laughter stilled in the throats of the people below as they took in a sight that would without a doubt stay with them for the rest of their lives.

From the back of the House, Jolene watched the sight with tears in her eyes. All her life she dreamed of Swans. All her life.

A hand took hers, and with startled eyes she met Ted's smiling face with tears of his own. She squeezed his hand, moving her gaze back to the sight of the magnificent Swan striking awe in the hearts of those present.

When she had finally landed, Rhonda was bombarded by children wanting to touch and pet the graceful Swan. Aside from Jolene it was the first act of kindness and excitement she received from the people of the City, and she willingly basked in the feeling it gave her as little hands stroked her smooth, clean feathers. She cooed gently, pleased with the treatment she was receiving. Noticing the time and how close it was to the evening performances, Jolene cleared her throat and moved towards the group of children still marveling over the bird.

"Sorry kids, but it's almost time for the other shows to begin. Can you promise that you'll keep this Swan a secret between us? That you won't tell another soul?" the children cheered their excitement, immediately taken by the thought of a secret that bonded them; the adults understood the reason for secrecy. They agreed, shaking hands with Jolene with conviction as they wiped the tears from their eyes.

One by one the parents led their children away from the Swan and out the door. Releasing a shaky breath, Jolene turned to her brother, sending him a soft smile as the bird between them squawked. Her cawing suddenly changed from pleased to almost painful as she took off, circling the stage three or four times before darting down the hallway. Through one of the smaller windows, the sky outside was turning a bloody red orange as dusk began to fall.

Collapsing within the tormentors of an empty stage, Rhonda tried her best to keep herself hidden as she changed once again from Swan into Woman. The white feathers melted away as her bones crunched and bent, the pain numbed now by her age. As her skeleton finished morphing and her soft flesh replaced smooth feathers, Rhonda stood on shaky feet, listening to the sounds of the workers trying to find the Swan. The silver of her pendant glimmered with light against the hallow of her throat as she ventured out, hoping to find a costume or clothing before the search party found her stark naked.

Stumbling into the wing, she was stopped by a figure that suddenly emerged from one of the stairwells. Her heart was suddenly up in her throat when she recognized those dark eyes – and it seemed that they knew her too when they began to burn as they moved up and down her exposed body. A shiver of excitement went down her spine as she was suddenly swept up in his arms, her back propped against the wall.

"I'm Thaddeus." Were the first words he spoke to her, heavy with lust as his lips ached to connect with hers.

"I'm Rhonda."

And that was that.

He crushed his chapped lips against hers, swallowing her moan as she wrapped her legs around his waist. His hands held her up as her own quickly slipped between then in a desperate attempt to find the opening in his pants. With success she sighed into his mouth as his hot organ slid none too gently into her. She tore her mouth away from his to let out an excited squeal, her hips attempting to meet his in a frantic, chaotic pace of thrusts and withdrawals.

With her mouth gone, Thaddeus's lips moved down the smooth column of her creamy neck with nips and kisses. He moved almost violently in her, pounding away into her warm, tight body. Never before had he felt such connection with anyone, man or woman, and he intended to show that to _this_ woman. Rhonda, meanwhile, was quickly losing her mind amid her descent into oblivion. When he punctuated one of her more vocal moans with a harsh thrust, her head whipped up against the wall, and her hazing eyes focused on what someone had written on the ceiling in a sloppy, rushed hand.

_Before me nothing but eternal things_

_Were made, and I shall last eternally._

_Abandon every hope, all ye who enter here._

Suddenly her eyes lost sight, and it was in that moment the lovers shared that they saw the world for what it was. Saw everyone they ever were, and everyone they could ever been. All that ever was, had ever been, will ever be; past, present and future met in a blind flash as everything was made clear. The purpose they served, and where they would succeed and fail. And with it they understood it all.

It faded with the heavy breathing of the post-orgasm shivers, the momentum of the thing they had done and shared slipping away like sand between fingers. As the strength left his legs, Thaddeus tried to gently lower her but only managed to bring them both to the ground with a thud and laughter. A smile on his face, he looked into her eyes dark as his own and embraced the feeling it gave him.

"I'm in love with you."

She could only smile in happiness, kissing him roughly and pulling his head to rest against her breast. Love was a very powerful emotion that doomed many souls.

But they didn't care.

HA


End file.
